Vengeance, Vigilant,Valor
by Alone in the blight
Summary: "sooo he wasn't neither a stormcloak nor an imp-" a smack on the head silenced the excited orc "Hush you ignorant buffoon!" groaned his fellow "you will spoil it for the reader!" - book one of tangled fates.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: a thing to mention here: apologies for those who read my other Skyrim fic; other than the fact that my forte lies in one shots, I ran of ideas but fear not for I will NOT abandon it :3 You could give me ideas to make me all jazzed up :)**

**This is a series of mini-books I intend to write about legends, occurrences or random writing that a well knee-armored adventure could find while venturing in the lands of Skyrim.**

**Note: some are in parallel possibilities or in future/past etc… oh and some of the books might **

** . . .**

_**I am but an old priestess of Arkay who is seeking the truth about our fallen high king. May the gods watch over his soul…**_

_**Vengeance, vigilant, valor**_

_**By Olca.R**_

**I**

Aesir was a fine lad for a Nord. He loved his father's land, to him, it was his ultimate goal … to explore it, to unravel her secrets of old but his old man always hindered him from the temptations of wanderlust. That old rotting farm was his un-caged prison… it felt like a death sentence to watch over his miserable pile of dirt enshrouded by Falkreath pines.

This was twenty years ago.

On the third night of frostfall, skirmishes of both imperials and stormcloaks ravaged the 'strategic' area only to taint the piling snow with the blood of his family amongst others. He could barely escape that night…

As the flames of freedom stirred in his chest so did the whispers of vengeance, in the next months any single patrolling unit was cut-throated from both sides. It wasn't till long when the dark brotherhood sniffed out this talented assassin-material. Inside the hidden sanctuary he felt that he actually belonged to something big (though he cared less about Sithis like the rest). His offer was quite simple: his dagger is at their service in condition that they would provide food and shelter …..

Astrid became suspicious, he would _never _touch a single Septim of any contract; all went to the brotherhood. She knew naught about him but his name, the man was as silent as a preying vampire. By instinct, she felt a plot brewing inside his chamber to take over the sanctuary. She tried to pick the door's lock but it was far more delicate and complicated so she (with a grudge in her heart.) resorted to an old friend from Riften.

In two weeks' time the man came, he actually told them that this particular lock was stolen from a famous lock smith this month. It took him some time but alas he opened it

Its content petrified them….

_**Though the dark brotherhood are gone almost decades ago, I took the liberty to scavenge their ruined sanctuary and to recover bits and pieces of unburned diaries which lightened the dark part of this book… my wrist are aching with pain… our tale shall continue in the next interval. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, to those 26 who spared some time to read the first chapter, I hope this one will be of interest to you. Excuse me for any future mistakes due to the fact that I am writing in a bed hospital with my pinkie. **

** . . .**

**II**

Names….lots of names tangled together in a web of red and blue**. **they are minor and major officers in both the armies of the bear and the wolf. Astrid was astonished beyond words….

To add insult to injury, the names of Ulfric stormcloak and general tillius were in the center of these webs. Just by then, the young assassin had just returned to the sanctuary with imperial blood gleaming on his blade. He was forced to explain his plan to get rid of those factions from his homeland, surprisingly enough, Astrid was convinced in a way; profit was all that mattered to her anyways, so if her little band of assassins started to take contracts on _both_ sides. It ought to be a win-win situation.

Last mistake.

While the stormcloaks basically relied on brute for to victory, the empire took more of a tactical approach with eyes everywhere ( learned it from the Thalamor no doubt). It was only a matter of time until the imperial spies discovered the double edged blade of the brotherhood. The impermeable dark door proved to be useless against siege fire. The whole place was wiped out.

And again Aesir fled from the scene, Vengeance grew more and more in the young lad's heart. He never spare a second without digging his dagger between solitude or windhelm or plotting for the next assassination. Yet he was just a single man facing the wrath of two superpowers… he needed an army.

Bandits and mercenaries were his first choice, for distraction or pillaging their resources: mines collapsed, farms burned, merchants killed. It went all smooth and well but still he was starching the surface.

After three years of further constricting the resources, Valia daughter of Tolfdir met Aesir by accident once more in winterhold (she was one of his clients when the brotherhood still drew breath…saved her life from her maddened old father ironically). They greeted each other and talked about the past a bit. She offered him a shelter in her home, he didn't sleep though, plots spread like wildfire in his mind. A golden glow interrupted Aesir's thoughts, he saw her practicing her new altered spell…

_Transmutation._

_**This single spell was the road to his victory … and also his ruin. My elven years on tamerial grew short… **_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: yay, two reviews in an instant! Thank you dears! I should lay more often in hospitals more often! Anyways, onward!**

** . . .**

**III**

Transmutation.

The dull chunk of iron turned into a lustrous, gleaming pile of gold in front of his very eyes. Soon the very foundation of Skyrim will change…

The assassination of the briar family wasn't that easy; technically he had a large bounty on his head in every hold plus the fact that maven became paranoid when her strings grew thinner in Skyrim due to the infamous assassin so she tripled the guards- all the money she hoarded over the years didn't save her from his silent blade. None would miss her cruel grasp in Riften.

All of her estates, money went the last vein of the briar family. Valia black briar … anything is possible with the right forging papers and a little bit of illusion magic. Soon, the dominance of maven was naught but a memory…

All of the fortune was put in hiring a considerable amount of mercenaries and mages with some keen in alteration. In the few months, all of the iron mines dotted across Skyrim were bought –both legally or illegally – all of these activities drew the attention of some families of some weight like shatter shield and silver blood… they knew that a storm is coming.

In the next few months, builders (especially those from the city of stone), couriers and engravers slowly disappeared from the holds. The course of time twisted when both of the empire and stormcloaks made a peace treaty (to catch breath for more future bloodshed it seemed). The unseen spies of the empire traced the bits and pieces of iron…Their discovery made the battle-hardened general shivers from fear

A sky-challenging tower made of pure gold erected secretly north of nightcaller temple in a secluded, frozen area, surrounded by a mighty wall made of gold as well. It wasn't so long till dozens of couriers spread across the land; their words set everything ablaze….

'_Citizens of Skyrim, travelers, adventurers and those who seek fortunes and piles of gold! He or she who would bring the head of ulfric stormcloak or general tillus will have a glimpse of the fortune dwelling in the tower of Aesir which matched the might of the white tower! Rise up! Rise up children of Skyrim! Seek the glow of dawnstar seek the place in undying songs where Skyrim is free of tyranny of the wolf and the bear!"_

_**And thus erupted the war of a hundred night…**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: the last installment, I suppose… a great thanks to my handful of readers :3**

** . . .**

_**I remember the overwhelming glow from the north like a newborn star while soothing the dead into Arkay's grace… little I knew back then.**_

The once handful of soldiers and brawlers in Aesir's grasp became a multi-bannered army in a matter of weeks… fueled by incriminated hatred, many Khajiits and Argonians joined his overgrowing ranks along with many troubled men seeking the glow of Septim. More mages poured every single day in the - now - city of gold. The companions failed to resist the temptations in these dark times, heck, even the forsworn joined the cause ….

Twenty years had passed since Aesir sworn to fulfill his desire of vengeance… now, older and wiser. Skyrim's beauty and uniqueness is to be for her people not bound to a single tyrant or caged like a lone canary to please the empire… Skyrim needs to be… free.

The empire and the stormcloaks failed to uncover the ruse until it was too late; the riots on both holds (couriers spread the idea of free Skyrim in the slumbering minds of people) . Furthermore, the number of both new recruits and resources were dwindling to a threatening extent. For the first time, the stubborn mind of ulfric and the tactical one of general tillus agreed on one plan :

Pillaging and destroying the new uprising power of Aesir.

Ulfric mustered a ground trembling army of twenty five thousand warrior (mostly heavy melees and few archers) from the west while general tillus gathered an army of thirty thousand warrior ( well trained soldiers of all colours – fresh from the empire) …. Whilst Aesir's army barely reached nine thousand rebelling soul.

The odds were against him of course, however, the winds of luck were amongst his side; Skyrim haven't embraced such a freezing winter since the day of her youth… which halted the progress of the raging armies considerably. Also, the companions – aside of being a capable fighter – organized all of the bandits, forsworn …etc. and armed them with proper tactics.

By their arrival, the two leaders found that the land around the tower was too jotted and irregular to position their siege equipment, in the first assault, both charging sides suffered heavy losses from the runes and traps buried under the sheets of snow. But even with Aesir's cunning plan, the hot headed ulfric rallied his troops in the battle field with unseen courage like a true nord inspiring his soldier. They were the first to engage Aesir forces. The forsworn were as brutal as their foes while the bandits were somehow quick on their feet and agile in their fighting. Archers failed to shoot from the tangling mass of friend and foes as well as mages (though the Hagraven kept hurling their fireball of doom.)

Seeing the massacre in front of him, general tillus sent his whole cavalry division (about a sixth of his army ) to attack Ulfric reckless army from the rear. Panic spread among the battle-weary stormcloaks and ulfric was no were to be seen and so Galmar ordered a full retreat …. In this great confusion, over seven thousand 'true nord' died while imperials lost a thousand or less (mainly from the booby traps). Aesir lost a thousand of his men but with the arrival of nightfall, things got a whole worse…

The forsworn (being the main bulk his army) showed their true face by slaughtering anyone in the city of gold. It was utter madness that night, luckily the archers on the top of the tower picked up the forsworn with ease, they stopped when their leader – a Briarheart- died by the companion blades. The whole night carnage sent another thousand to their graves.

As for Ulfric fate, the jarl slipped proved stripped off the garment of a dead forsworn in the midst of the battle and went in disguise with his enemies. In fact, he was the one who whispered in the forsworn leader's ears…his plot of rebellion failed miserably. Still, it wasn't a complete loss either…

Siege was laid on the city of gold by both the imperials and the stormcloak. Ulfric waited for the next imperial skirmish so he could slip by and return to his camp. That when fate took an ironic twist; upon Ulfric silent arrival in his camp, an axe of raging might struck him on his back….

_It was galmar's._

The stone-fist mistook him for a spy since the headdress veiled his king's face. In his last breath, ulfric gave him a dying forgiveness. The bear-hooded man was brilliant in his own way for he altered what happened and spread the news of the high king's honoured death in fighting for the true sons and daughters of Skyrim.

Hell broke loose from this moment, the stormcloaks cared not for their well-being; they wanted to take down as many imperials with them; they massacred the imperial camp near them… until none was left. Galmar death was a legendary one; the old mule took thirty with him including legate rikke until he could swing no more. Only seven thousand imperial were capable to fight on with broken morale, they basically throw themselves at the golden walls of Aesir. The fight went on and on till the imperials had the upper hand; the cunning imperial mages out-experienced those their counterpart with devastating conjuration spells. When all seemed to be hopeless, a dragon of golden scales swooped on the clashing mortal burning dozens with its blazing breath. The imperials proved to be coward milkdrinkers as they scattered from the scene like a skeever's whelps as well as the remaining Dunmer and bandits.

Aesir should have known that dragons can not resist the hue of gold although it didn't mean a significant value to them. nevertheless, he made an unseen approach to this dragon of old:

He went to the top of the tower and waited for the precise moment to jump either to his utter doom or to the dragon back and so he did. As if the nine blessed his dagger when he stroke his dagger into the thin scaly skin of its left wing, the dragon twirled right and left to get rid of him but in avail; his determination to slay the dragon matched Hakon One-Eye's . Finally the dragon landed out of balance and smashed into the tower revealing the endless sparkle of coins in it. The dragon had met the gaze of the flea that annoyed it and breathed fire but the man parried it by a thread (the fires burnt his right arm to crisp) . Gritting in pain, Aesir made a swift roll and sliced the dragon's throat with all the strength left in him.

The battle of a hundred nights ended in Aesir's favor unexpectedly. The whereabouts of general tillus is unknown- some say that he died a coward's death while fleeing, others say that he burned with his troops. None is certain. The next few months were spent in extinguishing the fires of the imperials and stormcloaks mainly. most of the septims in the city of gold were on rebuilding skyim to her former self… no thieves guild, no bandits, no corrupt guards, no discrimination and most of all, no Thalamor and free talos worshipping . Thanks to the efforts of _**Aesir fire-arm**_ our high king. The empire now recognize Skyrim as an independent nation not as a province… the Thalamor gave up in retaking Skyrim for she has a unmatched army protecting her beauty.

_**And this conclude the tale of our high king, he devoted the rest of his life to Skyrim far away from any selfish purpose. With the departure of our king from the world of living, I fear the fall of Skyrim in her old, dark ways…. **_


End file.
